


life makes echoes if you see them

by brandywine421



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Empires, Fall Out Boy, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-26
Updated: 2011-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detention's a familiar afterschool activity for Brendon and Spencer, apart from the storm that turns everything they knew upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brendon

**Author's Note:**

> Plot/'verse ripped off from BBC's "Misfits". There is no canon here.

  
Episode One: Brendon   


"Son, your father and I have made a decision. Father Dennis has revealed himself to be a prophet and..."

Brendon shook his head. "Mom, are you insane? That guy's definitely insane, but you..."

"Watch your tongue," his father snapped. "Listen to your mother. This affects all of us."

He had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming in frustration.

"We are giving up our earthy possessions and moving with the church to Montana. It's going to be a whole new world and we're dedicating our life to God and following the Prophet's Word," his mother said. The excitement in her eyes turned Brendon's stomach.

"He's scamming you, how could you believe him? We've lived in this house my whole life, all your friends are here, your kids are here..." Brendon started.

"It's not up for discussion. The Prophet can answer any questions you have, but this is the best thing we can do to serve God," his father said.

"What about school?" Brendon asked. He would be sixteen in two months and he had almost started to think about college. More since his parents had gone completely nuts.

"The Prophet..." his mom started.

"Fuck the prophet!" Brendon blurted out. His mother smacked him, knocking his glasses crooked.

"You will not blaspheme in my house," she said. "We're leaving next Tuesday. You don't need to pack anything, we'll have everything we need in our new cabins."

"I'm not going." His voice worked without his brain. He wouldn't go along with his parents' psycho religious quest when he didn't even believe in God.

His father's nostrils flared.

"I'm not going. I'll find somewhere else to stay. I'm not going along with this shit; I'm old enough to know when something's this wrong," Brendon said, holding his breath.

His mother leaned forward with am unfamiliar scowl on her face. Brendon had never seen her this mad. "If you do this, you're turning your back on God. You're turning your back on this family."

"I'm not moving away to live in a cabin when I haven't even graduated yet. I want to go to college, I want to see my friends..." Brendon said.

"You don't have any friends and you're not smart enough to go to college. We've coddled you this far and you're disrespecting us and damning yourself to hell," his father said.

"I'm not going," Brendon said, not letting his words get to him.

"We'll alert the Prophet to your decision. You have until Tuesday to make your arrangements," his mother said.

He remembered to breathe with a gasp. "You're serious about this? Have you told Karen or Mike?"

"We've said all we need to say to you, Brendon," his father said.

Brendon stood up and took the stairs two at a time to get to his room.

Fuck. He knew his parents were getting serious about that new church, about that Dennis guy - they went to church every night - but he had no idea that they'd do something this drastic.

How could they leave him? How could they ask him to give up his life? His education? What the hell were they thinking?

\---- ! ----

"Don't you have any friends you can stay with? We've, kind of, got a full house over here." Brendon felt like he was going to throw up.

"I just thought I'd stick to family first. But I got it. Can I ask you another favor?" He had to force the words out. "Do you have any lawyer friends that could give me some advice?"

"I don't like asking for family favors, I keep those out of the workplace."

"Well fuck you, too, Karen."

"Don't be like that, Brendon," his sister whispered. "You don't know how it is..."

"I know you had a college fund and a place to live and money for food and I know that Mom and Dad have already given everything they own to this Prophet guy. And I know that you honestly don't give a shit about me. Shit. Good luck with your family," Brendon sighed, clicking his phone closed. At least Karen would miss his free babysitting.

He felt like curling up in the corner to cry but he had to suck it up. He had to keep trying. As much as it hurt that his parents were fucking leaving him, he had to get out of this freefall. Brendon had never been good at planning ahead.

Mike answered on the third ring. "Baby Bro, what's the occasion? Grounded again?"

"Worse," Brendon said. "Look, Mom and Dad have fucking lost it. They're moving to the wilderness or something with that Dennis guy and I'm not going."

"What? Are you serious?"

"I'm doornail serious. Dead. Before I get into their craziness, I need to explain that I don't want to quit school and I don't want to move but they're selling everything and I'm freaking out a little knowing I'm going to be homeless and indigent in seven days."

"They're leaving you? Are you kidding me, Brendon?"

"No. That guy's brainwashed them or something. I need help."

"I don't know what I can do from here, buddy," Mike said, but his tone was more regretful than Karen's.

Brendon closed his eyes. "Do you think you can give me a loan? Like, a hotel room for a week or so? It doesn't have to be nice..."

"Shoot, I think I can help out a better way. I still have friends out there, let me make some calls and see if I can pull in a favor or two. And I'm calling Mom and Dad as soon as I hang up. What do you mean by wilderness?"

"Montana. They're selling the house, they've cleaned out all the bank accounts, it's insane. I didn't know it was this bad," Brendon said.

"I'm going to find you a place to stay if I can't get Mom and Dad to come to their senses. Hang tight." Mike hesitated. "As soon as they go to bed, grab as much stuff as you can and pack it up. If they're selling everything, make sure you have what you need before they take it."

"I'm on it. I have all the sheets," Brendon said.

"Hang tight," Mike said. "I'll call you soon."

Brendon closed his eyes again.

\---- ! ----

He begged boxes from his job at the smoothie place in the mall and filled them up with clothes and stacked them in his room. He couldn't take much furniture but he managed to get a few lamps, his stereo and his precious laptop packed in. On Monday, Mike drove into town and helped him get everything into the car.

His parents hadn't spoken to Brendon in three days and he'd gotten used to the idea of being on his own. Mostly. He wasn't sure how he was going to afford rent and food and he wasn't sure how the legal stuff would work but other than that, he was totally okay with it. Mostly.

It would always hurt that his parents considered him forgettable.

"I'm going to talk to Mom and Dad, wait here," Mikey said after the car was loaded.

"That's probably not a good idea," Brendon said. "But maybe they'll actually answer you when you ask a question." Mike squeezed his shoulder and went into the house anyway.

Brendon leaned against the car and gave himself a few minutes to hope that Mike could convince them that this was wrong. If he took his own issues out of the equation, he was really worried that his parents were joining a cult that would end up in mass suicide or something equally awful.

 _"You're going to give him something - you're his mother - is the Prophet selling you a God that's telling you to abandon your son? What kind of God would do that? God doesn't abandon his children!"_

Brendon winced at Mike's voice but he was glad that someone understood where he was coming from. He hadn't fully recovered from Karen's cold reaction to his request for help. He couldn't make out any more of their conversation but it didn't take long for Mike to walk out. His eyes were dark with anger and his lips were in a stiff line. He handed a bulging yellow envelope to Brendon. "Get in, we're going."

"What's this?" Brendon asked quietly when they were in the car.

"I don't know what's wrong with them. They didn't...what happened to them, Brendon?" Mike asked, his knuckles white around the steering wheel.

"The Prophet. When they left our old church, they went all-in with his new doctrine. I managed to convince them to let me stay at the old one, but I stopped going a while ago. When I figured out that they didn't care either way."

"You should've called one of us," Mike said. "Macon, at least, he's a religion professor."

"Did you call him?" Brendon asked. Mike sighed, shaking his head. Macon was two states away and had stopped returning emails when he got married. He still came for sporadic holidays, but he'd set a good example for forgetting family.

"There's money in the envelope. They emptied all their accounts and the Prophet asked for cash only donations for the move. Like that's not suspicious," Mike snorted. "We'll go to the bank after we drop your stuff off at Sean's."

"You still haven't told me the details. My landlord's name is Sean?" Brendon asked. He was too desperate to be picky.

"He's not your landlord, he's a dude I knew in high school. He's a musician in his head, but really he just lives off his late Grandma's money and gets stoned a lot. The garage has a loft room and at least that way you won't have to be in his party space while you finish school. He's not charging you anything and, heck, it's the best I could do at short notice. He's a nice guy," Mike said.

"It's more than I'd have without you. Thanks, Mike. It sounds good. Thank you for getting the money, too," Brendon said, too grateful to try for more without crying.

"Well, you are the only little brother I get so when you get rich and famous, you owe me," Mike said.

He took in a breath. He could do this. He could be an adult now. He could make it work.

\---- ! ----

"Sean. Sean, wake up and give me the key," Mike said, shaking the slender sleeping man on the floor of the house they'd finally arrived at. It was close enough to school for him to walk and the bus stop was on the corner for him to get to work.

The house was trashed, though, with bottles everywhere and crooked pictures tacked to the walls among concert flyers and handwritten lyrics. He was definitely going to take a closer look when he had time to snoop.

Sean snorted and jerked awake, knocking over a small pyramid of cans. "What? Oh. Shit, I forgot, Mike," the guy said, wiping his hands on his jeans absently and reaching for a heave to his unsteady feet.

"I figured. It's still cool, right?"

Sean turned surprising bright eyes to Brendon. "Seems small enough to fit. Come on, kid."

Brendon snickered at his easy acceptance and followed him into a kitchen that honestly did not have a single clear space on the counter. Who had this many dishes?

"Mm," Sean muttered. "There's no shower out here, and only a toilet so you have to use the shower in here. There's a mini-fridge and microwave somewhere in there but you can use the kitchen, too. Only thing I ask is that you don't drink my beer without replacing it."

"Brendon isn't old enough to drink," Mike said quickly. Sean gave him a lazy hand wave and opened a door splattered with something that Brendon didn't want to identify.

Sean flipped on a light switch but there were boxes stacked to the ceiling and he paused. "I hate it out here. Boxes, so many goddamn boxes. Anyway, that's the bathroom and here are the stairs. There's a bed up there and a chair or something," he said. "Big door doesn't open but the exit's over there and there's a padlock on it so you can lock it."

The stairs were narrow and covered with dust and there wasn't a door at the top, but a hatch to step into the tiny room.

The bed was more like a cot tucked under the slanted ceiling. He'd have to remember not to sit up too fast and bang his head. There was a low dresser under the small window and three recliners lined up on the opposite side of the room. He could work with this. He was small enough to fit.

"How's it look, Bren?" Mike called.

"Nice!" Brendon climbed back down the stairs into the garage where they'd pushed some boxes aside to make a space.

"Cool. I'll be around to chat later, kid, but right now I've got to go clean up and run some errands. Good to see you, Mike." Sean dropped a set of keys into his hand and walked back inside, only stumbling once.

"He has a thing about boxes apparently," Mike said after a beat.

"I like him. I couldn't ask for anything better on my budget. You want to move in my boxes and head to the bank before I make you help me unpack?"

Mike snorted but threw an arm around him and led him through the side door.

\---- ! ----

"Toast. Eggs. Coffee and orange juice," Brendon said, putting down the plates on the recently cleaned counter in the kitchen.

Sean blinked at him vacantly. "Seriously?"

"Yes, dude, as much as you drink, you need to eat at least one full meal to soak up some of that shit. Besides, I can't just grub down when you're obviously starving to death, why do you sleep on the floor anyway - your carpet is disgusting, dude," Brendon said, sitting down to get to his breakfast.

"Huh. You could clean it if you want. I think I even have a vacuum somewhere," Sean said, taking the toast and smearing way too much jelly on top before cramming it in his mouth. Jelly dripped off his chin. Brendon hoped he showered to get it out of his beard.

"No way, man. The kitchen took me longer to clean than my own space," Brendon replied. "Eat, I have to leave for school soon and I want time to do the dishes."

"Good eggs," Sean said with his mouth full. "Thanks."

"No problem," Brendon said. He had to come up with a routine, sooner rather than later, and if Sean insisted on passing out on the living room floor where Brendon could see him, that routine would include feeding his drunk ass so he didn't worry about finding his landlord dead of starvation.

"You got all your arrangements made? A ride to school or whatever?" Sean asked.

"I'm on top of it," Brendon said. He hoped he was. Unless it rained, he'd have no issues walking to school.

Sean finished before he did with an impressive belch and patted him on the back before leaving him to clean up. Brendon knew his gratitude chores would wear off eventually but for today, he was just focusing on getting through the day without worrying about his parents or his new boundaries from budgeting and staying under social services' radar. Mike had drilled into him that no one find out his parents were out of the picture until he was at least sixteen.

Unfortunately, he'd miscalculated the walk to school and got there way past the tardy bell. His homeroom teacher seemed to get way too much pleasure out of handing him the slip for a week's worth of afterschool detention. He was glad his manager at the smoothie place had started factoring in his detentions for a later shift months ago. Brendon had a problem with punctuality when a paycheck wasn't involved.

The rest of the day seemed like every other school day. He went to class and didn't raise his hand. He ate lunch alone in the corner of the cafeteria and didn't talk to anyone. He went to the library during his free period and watched YouTube videos of the latest music with his headphones. The repeat of monotony actually made him feel steadier.

No one knew he'd been ditched by his parents to join a freak cult. No one knew he was sleeping on a lumpy cot and hiding from spiders.

No one cared. That was okay; Brendon was at least used to being invisible at school, it was the fact that his family didn't care that got to him. His parents had always been there for him until they met the Prophet. It was like they'd taken a part of him with them. And what kind of son was he if they didn't feel bad leaving him all alone?

"Mr. Urie, please don't add another week to your punishment by being late to detention," Mr. Hall said, approaching him by his locker after the final bell. The principal was a nice guy but Brendon didn't want to talk to him today.

"I'm on my way, I just had to get some other homework to do while I'm there," Brendon said.

"You look tired, long weekend?" Mr. Hall asked, walking with him to the detention room.

"You could say that. But I don't have to work tonight so I plan on catching up on some sleep. And with detention, I can have all my homework finished," Brendon said.

"That's why I like you, kid, you always look on the bright side," Mr. Hall smiled. "Keep that up and you might turn out okay."

Brendon rolled his eyes and stepped into the classroom.

He recognized the kids already seated. Spencer Smith, the recently exiled popular kid who snarled at everyone, students and teachers alike was slumped down by the window wearing his worn gray hoodie as armor. Ian Crawford, who was unfortunately shorter than Brendon, and liked to kick bullies in the balls at every opportunity; was sitting in the back corner.

Brendon smiled at the last kid. Dallon Weekes was a new transfer in from home schooling and enjoyed practical jokes and horribly awkward attempts at humor in the middle of class. He hadn't gotten used to being around kids his own age and Brendon admired him for trying so hard.

"Sit down, Mr. Urie and stop hovering," Mr. Lohan grumbled from behind his desk. Brendon always thought that the teachers that got detention duty were on their own detention duty since they were usually assholes. Mr. Lohan was easy enough because as long as they were quiet, he left them alone.

He took a seat in the middle away from everyone and settled in for a peaceful afternoon. He figured he'd earned it.

\---- ! ----

"Is that thunder?" Ian asked about an hour into the silent time. Brendon had heard the sound, too, but he'd been too focused on reading the reviews of the latest Radiohead album to notice how dark it was getting outside.

"No talking, Ian," Mr. Lohan said with a tired sigh, but he got up and pulled the string to raise the blinds all the way to the top. There were black clouds churning in the sky.

"Tornadoes in Vegas? Awesome," Dallon muttered with wide eyes.

"Everybody move away from the windows, just in case," Mr. Lohan said. "I'm sure it's just a passing storm, it'll blow over."

"The lightning's green," Brendon said, stuffing his magazine and notebook into his backpack absently as he watched the electricity ripple neon green through the clouds.

"That's fucking crazy," Spencer said, leaning closer to the window to try and see up. Brendon forgot about the 'rules of high school' and moved to his side to look up at the center of the spiral of clouds.

"Kids, away from the windows," Mr. Lohan repeated over a rumble of thunder.

"Hope a house falls on him," Brendon muttered. Spencer actually snorted out a smile. It had been a while since anyone had seen Spencer smile.

Brendon took a seat between Dallon and Ian and turned the desk to get a better view of the storm. Tornadoes only happened on TV.

Mr. Lohan pulled out his cell phone and was clicking buttons, probably to check the weather when a bolt of lightning hit a car in the parking lot, illuminating the street with a flash of green.

"Sucks for that guy," Dallon said, but Brendon could tell he was freaked. Hell, Brendon definitely was.

There was another rolling boom of thunder and a collective gasp when a stripe of lightning started across the parking lot, bolts of green hitting lightposts, parking meters and the flagpole before the shatter of windows sent glass flying through the room.

He felt himself pushed out of the desk and against the wall with a thunk before he slid to the floor. He blinked spots out of his eyes and saw Mr. Lohan across the room, glowing green for a flash before dropping his cell phone and sitting down in a puddle of glass.

There was a final blast of thunder and light and the clouds simply dissipated into blue sky.

"Fuck," Ian muttered. "I think my hair cushioned the impact."

"Awesome," Dallon said.

Brendon counted them as okay before pushing himself to his knees and leaning forward to check Spencer. He was slumped against the wall like he was sleeping with a thin line of blood down his cheek. "Smith."

"He'll kick your ass if you touch him," Dallon warned but the guy was bleeding and he thought personal space rules could be broken at a time like this.

He wiped the blood off with the cuff of his shirt and tried to check the guy's pulse but his own was beating too loud in his ears for him to remember where to press his fingers. He could feel Spencer's minty breath against his hand, though, or at least smell it so he knew he was alive. "Hey, dude. Wake up and not be dead," he said.

Spencer didn't move and Ian and Dallon had gone over to the oddly silent Mr. Lohan so he was on his own. Great.

He turned his attention back to Spencer and patted his cheek gently. Spencer was pretty hot behind his angry bangs and frowny face.

"Spencer Smith. _Spencer_. Please?" Brendon patted his face again, a little harder and Spencer made a sound in the back of his throat. "Yeah, dude, wake up now, please."

Spencer's bright blue eyes fluttered open, blinked once, before he sat up with a jolt and slammed his head into the wall again.

"Nice. You okay?" Brendon asked, pushing himself backwards so the skittish guy didn't kick his ass.

"What?" Spencer glared at him, holding a hand to his head.

"Okay, that's a yes." Brendon saw that Mr. Lohan was standing now and let himself take a relieved breath. His hands spiked with pain and he saw the cuts from the glass and debris. Fuck, those orange smoothies were going to suck tonight.

\---- ! ----

The power was out at his job and Mr. Hall had already called off school for tomorrow, but made a point to let Brendon know that his detention would resume when they reopened.

Sean wasn't home when he came in so he went into the garage and sat down in his recently constructed box fort. He'd stacked the boxes around the lamp he'd rescued from his old room and arranged the three recliners like a couch beside it. Another box labeled 'books' served as a coffee table and he'd found a twelve inch TV with the minifridge that served as as TV stand. To make the walls of boxes look less like, well, a wall of boxes; he'd taken a cue from Sean's living room and taped up pictures from magazines and CD cases. He put The Day After Tomorrow into his DVD player to watch fake natural disasters instead of the weird one he'd gone through for real earlier.

It was his first full day at school after his parents had ditched him and it had already set a bleak future. If something had happened to him, there was no one to call to come help him.

He'd just pulled out his crushed soda can bong and tiny bag of weed he'd managed to squirrel away before his connection got fired from Smoothie King when the door from the house opened. "Kid, you out here?"

"Follow the light, the boxes won't hurt you," Brendon yelled. Sean stepped into his 'room' and glanced around in surprise a moment before taking the recliner beside him.

"Dude, were you at school when that shit went down? It's all over the news and stuff," Sean said.

"You do realize that you're not my babysitter, right?" Brendon laughed, but it was audibly forced.

Sean shrugged. "I was hoping you'd make breakfast again tomorrow. I bought Eggos."

"Cool," Brendon said, relaxing. "I got detention for being late and the sky was crazy-looking - and then this green lighting started and all the windows just exploded," he said. It was a 'cool story, bro' moment for sure.

"Awesome. I was at a friend's place and we missed everything. The power went out, though. You have Disney band-aids all over your arms," Sean said.

"I love Disney. And there was lots of glass," Brendon said. Sean yawned again and reached down and picked up the can that Brendon had forgotten to hide.

"There are much better ways to do this. I'll loan you a pipe. Pass me a lighter for now," Sean said.

He held it out and Sean pulled out his own bag of weed and packed the can. After a few impressive bowl hits, Brendon felt much better about his day.

"Today was fucking weird. I spent all day thinking about that fucking asshole and his stupid Jesus hair," Sean said.

"What?" Brendon asked, confused.

"I said I spent all day worried about the living room carpet," Sean said.

"Oh. I thought you said something else," Brendon replied. Weird.

"I bought Eggos and a vacuum. It was a shitty day," Sean said.

"I'm sorry that Eggos and cleaning ruined your day," Brendon replied.

"What? I said I had a good day, why are you apologizing? And you have to put the vacuum together. What are we watching?" Sean asked, reclining his chair and crossing his arms behind his head.

Brendon was happy for the company but surprised that Sean didn't have cooler people to hang out with. He had a huge TV inside but Sean seemed settled in the ratty recliner watching the Brendon's tiny screen. "I want to forget about all that weird lightning today so I'm thinking bad disaster movies will help," Brendon said, reclining his chair, too.

"Good idea. How about I get us some beers and you start this sucker over. I don't really feel like drinking alone tonight and it's okay that it's you and not Tom."

Brendon was confused again and blinked at Sean. "Who's..."

"Are you having hearing issues? I'm getting the beer," Sean said, going into the kitchen.

Brendon apparently was having hearing issues.

\---- ! ----

Brendon spent his free day off from school assembling the vacuum and cleaning Sean's house. It was actually fun since Sean had decided that he couldn't get stoned enough and rewarded him for every bag of garbage with a fresh joint or a beer.

He'd never seen anyone with a tolerance like Sean, but when the kitchen and downstairs was as spotless as they could manage, the guy wasn't even slurring. But Brendon slept like a baby and made it to school before the first bell, which hadn't happened in years.

Some of the classrooms had boarded up windows and there were some scorch marks outside, but apart from that, everything went on like normal.

Well, normal until Spencer Smith sat down across from him in the cafeteria at lunchtime. Brendon had a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly but managed a wave of greeting.

Spencer stared at him until he swallowed. "Um. Hi."

"Thanks for making sure I wasn't dead yesterday."

Brendon snorted. "No problem. Thanks for not being dead. That shit was pretty scary."

Spencer studied him with striking blue eyes. "Yeah. It was."

"Did you see a doctor?" Brendon asked. He offered a sandwich square to Spencer who shook his head.

"Why do you care?" Spencer asked.

"Because you were bleeding and passed out. On TV, that would mean you need a doctor. Why shouldn't I care?" Brendon asked.

Spencer blinked at him. His bitchface was fierce. "You don't think I'm going to infect you with my bisexuality?"

Brendon laughed even though he knew he shouldn't and bit back as much as he could. "You are such a loser, really? And I don't think you have to worry, there's nothing in this world that could make me like girls."

It took Spencer a moment to process but there was a flash of something in his eyes that made Brendon think it was a misfire of a smile.

"I don't really pay attention to what people say, nobody talks to me anyway. I have enough problems of my own," Brendon said.

"What kind of problems would you have?" Spencer snapped.

Brendon wasn't sure why Spencer had sat down if all he was going to do was bitch. "Wow, you think people don't like you because you're bi? Have you ever considered it's because you're a douchebag?"

Spencer narrowed his glare at him but Brendon rolled his eyes. He bit into a square of sandwich and when he looked up again, Spencer was pulling out an insulated lunch bag. Brendon raised an eyebrow at him.

"Shut up," Spencer muttered. Brendon smiled behind his sandwich. They ate in silence for a while until Spencer's attention was drawn to the skylight over the middle of the cafeteria.

"What are you looking at?" Brendon asked.

"There are Russian flies up there," Spencer said.

"What? Russian flies?" Brendon coughed out.

Spencer's eyes went wide in surprise. "I said I was checking the glass, what did you..."

"Sorry, since the storm, I've been having this weird brain thing going on, just ignore me, you're pretty good at that," Brendon said.

"No - I mean, really? Because weird stuff's been happening to my brain, too," Spencer whispered.

"What kind of weird?" Brendon asked.

"You first," Spencer said.

"I don't know. I keep hearing things that people didn't really say. Not all the time, but my landlord and now you and the fly thing. You didn't really say Russian flies, though," Brendon said.

"They are Russian. They're trying to come up with an escape plan for the window, they've already laid a bunch of eggs in the mashed potatoes for tomorrow," Spencer said.

Brendon blinked at him. "Your brain thing is weirder. Why are they Russian?"

"My goldfish are Japanese," Spencer said seriously. "I can hear them talking. The fish and the flies and there's no way it can be real. Maybe I should go to a doctor."

"You can't tell a doctor that, they'll lock you up. This is definitely weird," Brendon said. "There's no cure for doucebaggery, so you should move that idea to the bottom of your list. Do you think we got secretly electrocuted and it shorted out our brains yesterday?"

"I don't know. I'm not a douchebag," Spencer said. The bell rang and they had to break their unexpected staredown.

"Pre-Cal and Western Civ for me now. If you're not a douchebag, you could sit beside me in detention and we could discuss the weird some more before you call the men in the white coats," Brendon said.

"You are so hot today."

"You think I'm hot?" Brendon asked, his cheeks burning red.

"I said you are so weird today, what the hell?" Spencer asked.

Brendon winced. "Maybe we can get a discount at the psych hospital."

\---- ! ----

They moved detention to the library conference room and Mr. Lohan was already sitting behind the lone desk at the front of the room. Brendon was first and took the seat furthest away at the end of the long table.

"Um, are you okay after yesterday, Mr. Lohan?" Brendon asked.

"Shut up, Urie," Mr. Lohan replied. He must have been taking notes from Spencer.

Brendon opened up his math notebook to a blank page and started a set of doodles around the nonsensical notes from Pre-Cal. He glanced up when Spencer sat down beside him and dropped a note in front of him.

 _1\. The gerbil in Ms. Susan's class has OCD and an addiction to catnip because one of the kids keeps dropping it in after lunch to make it crazy. She thinks the wheel in her cage is a time machine._

 _2\. There are rats in the gym and they're from Brooklyn and sound like the Beastie Boys._

 _3\. I am certainly losing my mind._

Brendon glanced at Spencer who was nodding at him solemnly. He picked up a pen and wrote on the edge of his notebook so Spencer could see. _I love the Beastie boys. But I hate rats. This is so weird. Do you think we can give the hamster some Prozac?_

Spencer rolled his eyes but there was a hint of a smile behind his eyes. He scribbled on the edge of his notebook so Brendon could see. _Why do you have a landlord and not parents?_

 _I don't know you that well._ Brendon put his pen down when Dallon and Ian walked in to take their seats. Today, they were all sitting together and away from Mr. Lohan. Ian was visibly twitchy and Dallon had a sad expression on his face and he was swallowed in a heavy sweatshirt. Brendon thumped the desk in front of him with his pencil and mouthed 'you okay' at him when he looked up.

"Everything's weird," Dallon whispered.

Mr. Lohan slammed his fists on his desk, making them all jump. "I will not tolerate disobedience!"

"What the hell, man?" Spencer snapped.

Mr. Lohan's chair squealed as he pushed it back roughly to get to his feet and shake his finger at Spencer. "Shut your mouth! I will have your intestines strung up from the rafters!"

"What?" Brendon asked, glancing around. Did he really say that? What teacher would say that?

"I will paint these walls with the blood of these insolent spawn!" Mr. Lohan said.

"Spawn?" Brendon repeated.

"Nobody said that," Spencer whispered. "Your 'weird's' showing!"

Mr. Lohan slammed his fists down again, the desk splintering slightly under his hands.

"I'm getting the fuck out of here," Brendon said, giving Spencer a panicked look, but it was Dallon that stood up with him first.

"I'm calling my Mom," Dallon said.

"Good, I will gut her, too," Mr. Lohan said.

"You can't say that about his mom," Brendon replied. Dallon's mom was probably nice!

Mr. Lohan picked up the dictionary on his sagging desk and flung it at him. Brendon ducked but the book slammed into the wall behind him leaving a small crater of broken plaster.

"Go," Spencer said, grabbing Ian and pulling him out of the room behind Brendon and Dallon.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Ian blurted out, skidding to a stop before they got to the door.

"What, we have to go...fuck," Spencer said. Brendon still wanted to run but he had to see what had stopped them cold. Mrs. Spears, the librarian, was lying behind the desk with her stomach cut open.

"We should go now, and tell someone," Dallon said slowly. Another book flew at them from behind and Mr. Lohan stomped toward them.

"Ow," Brendon said when the next book hit him square in the back and made him stumble. Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway. Ian reached for the fire alarm and Dallon was already tapping numbers on his phone.

"Don't touch that lever, Crawford. What's going on, boys?" Mr. Hall asked, stepping out of his office.

"Thank God - look, Mr. Lohan's gone nuts and Ms. Spears is dead behind her desk and..." Brendon started.

"Slow down, Brendon," Mr. Hall said.

The door swung open and Mr. Lohan stormed out with murder on his face. He zeroed in on Ian, who was closest, but Mr. Hall finally caught on and stopped him with a bulky arm around him. "What the hell is going on with you, Michael?"

"I refuse to be disrespected by these vermin anymore!" Mr. Lohan yelled.

"Pull it," Brendon said to Ian. He nodded and pulled the fire alarm. Mr. Hall body-slammed Mr. Lohan to the floor.

"I think you guys should clear out, I'll handle this. I'll call your parents tonight when this is resolved," Mr. Hall said.

Brendon had no argument for that and hurried out of the school into the sunlight. _What the hell?_

"Mrs. Spears was just...split open. Would he really do that? I mean, he's an asshole, but that was sick," Ian said.

"I need to go home," Dallon said.

"Dude, aren't you hot?" Spencer asked.

Dallon shifted uncomfortably before deflating. "I'm stretching."

Brendon wondered if his 'weird' was turning on again. "What's that mean?"

"That I'm hot?" Dallon blinked.

"That you're stretching," Brendon replied.

"He didn't say that, what does that even mean?" Ian asked.

Dallon stared at him.

"Fuck. You guys should come to my house, I think we need to chill out and talk about some stuff."

Spencer chimed in first. "I think that's a good idea. Because all kinds of weird shit is going on with me, and him, and maybe you guys, too."

"Don't you live across town?" Ian asked.

"Not anymore, come on, it's only a couple of blocks," Brendon said. He needed to sit down somewhere minus the crazy.

\---- ! ----

"Whose garage is this?" Dallon asked when they'd walked into the maze of boxes.

"My brother's friend, I'm staying here for a while. I'm making the best of it," Brendon said, leading his quasi-friends into the sitting area.

"That sucks," Ian said. There were only three recliners but Ian moved the stuff off the 'coffeetable' box and sat on it. "What the fuck, guys."

"What kind of weird shit is happening to you?" Dallon asked Spencer when they'd chosen recliners. Brendon took the unoccupied one between them.

"I...fuck, I can hear what animals, like, insects and fish and cats, I can hear what they say," Spencer said. "Or at least I think I do. I thought I was going crazy. I still think I'm going crazy."

"He says someone's giving Ms. Susan's hamster catnip," Brendon said.

Dallon flushed. "Who told you that?"

"It's a gerbil, and he told me. You shouldn't do that anymore, you're giving her anxiety issues," Spencer said.

"What about you, Brendon?" Ian asked.

"I can't really explain it. When people say stuff, I hear something different. When Mr. Lohan was talking, he said something about stringing Spencer up by his intestines and painting the walls with blood. He called us 'spawn'," Brendon said.

"He didn't say any of that," Dallon said.

"But that's what I heard. And I heard you say you were stretching back at the school - what did you really say?" Brendon asked.

"I said it was hot. But..." Dallon sighed and pulled off his sweatshirt. Then he reached across Brendon and tapped Spencer on the shoulder. His arm was twice as long as it should be and when he leaned back, the skin retracted back to normal. "I've always been the tallest guy in the room and this morning, I was two inches taller. I'm stretching."

"This is insane," Brendon said, poking Dallon's arm experimentally.

"I don't have any weird new power. Do you think Mr. Lohan's thing made him go batshit insane?" Ian asked.

Brendon hadn't considered that. "God, we're all going to go nuts. I mean, more nuts."

"We just need to figure out how to control it," Spencer said. "So we don't start killing librarians."

"You should figure it out if it's real first. I mean, obviously Dallon's got the proof," Ian said.

"There's a spider looking at your hair, it's in one of the boxes," Spencer said.

Brendon pulled his feet underneath him in the recliner. "Not cool, I hate spiders and my Raid's upstairs." Ian brushed his hands through his hair with a frown.

"Do you think you're reading minds?" Dallon asked Brendon.

"I don't think so," he replied. "It's only when people talk, like, when they answer questions, I guess?"

"Huh. Ask me something," Dallon said.

"Okay. What do you think about my living room?" Brendon asked.

"I think its really sad," Dallon replied.

"Huh. You think it's sad?" Brendon replied.

"I didn't say that. But I do think it's sad. Where are your parents?" Dallon asked.

"They're out of town. It's very complicated and private. I think my box room is awesome, not sad" Brendon said.

"I said your box fort was awesome," Dallon replied.

"Are you sure nothing weird's happening to you?" Brendon asked Ian. Today was turning out to be worse than the day his parents left. Well, not really, but it was coming close.

"I don't think so. I mean, I'm still pretty freaked out about our teacher trying to kill us so I haven't really been thinking about superpowers," Ian said. "I wonder if we'll have to talk to cops."

"Shit. Mr. Hall said he was going to call our parents. I haven't changed my contact information," Brendon realized. He was so screwed.

"Maybe we should go to a hospital," Spencer said.

"No - then they'll experiment on us and shit," Dallon said with wide eyes. "I don't feel any different and I'm pretty much back to the same height right now. Do you think I'm melting?"

"I have no idea," Brendon said. He was still thinking about what would happen if the school found out that his parents were unreachable and he didn't have a viable guardian in town. At least in a mental institution he wouldn't need to worry about anything.

\---- ! ----


	2. Spencer

**  
  
**

**Episode Two: Spencer**

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**

Spencer stepped into the house and immediately took off his shoes. It was easier these days if his parents didn't hear him. He thought his parents would have forgiven him by now, but it had been nine months and three days since his ex-best friend had outed him and it had taken two months for his mother to look him in the eyes again.

It was becoming obvious that he'd never be able to make it up to them.

He had lost all his friends and his parents, too, and so far, it was all for nothing. Nine months. He knew even if he tried to take it back now that it would never be forgotten, or forgiven.

He could have really used his parents these last couple of days. The storm, the sudden insanity issues, and now the psycho teacher and dead lady...he really needed a fucking hug.

Weirdly, but what wasn't weird these days, was Brendon Urie. The kid he'd never noticed was funny and nice and had a 'complicated and private' life worse than Spencer's. If the guy hadn't had to go to work, Spencer would have stayed until he got kicked out just to have someone to talk to. And it didn't hurt that he was cute as fuck and possibly available.

He had never talked to Brendon before, never really noticed him at all; but he should have. He would now. He stepped into the living room and saw his father sitting in front of the TV watching the news and dozing like normal. He walked past him in his socked feet and successfully made it to the stairs and up to his room.

"Spencer?"

He turned at the sound of his sister's voice and smiled. "Hey, Janet. What's up?"

"Sheryl said Harmony's cousin said something happened at the high school today, I was worried."

He didn't like that his 12 year old sisters got all the high school gossip before he did these days. "I would've called if something happened," he said, returning her pouty hug.

"Not if you were dead. You couldn't call if you were dead," Sheryl said, mirroring her twin's hug.

"What exactly did Harmony's cousin say?" Spencer asked. Had Mr. Hall called his parents?

"She said a teacher attacked some of the kids and killed a lady," Sheryl answered. "Were you there?"

"I should go call some people and find out what's happening," Spencer said. He didn't want to scare his baby sisters.

"Just because Mom and Dad don't care, me and Sheryl still do. We didn't know if you'd call them if something happened. You can call us, you know?" Janet said.

"I know," Spencer said, his gut twisting. Even his sisters knew their parents hated him. "I promise, I'm okay." That seemed to satisfy them and he made it to the asylum of his room so he could lock the door.

 _Oh, it's back. You think it'll feed us now?_

Spencer glared at the goldfish.

 _It's looking at us - surely it'll feed us._

 _We're starving already, if we could use the phone we could have called the Humane Society by now._

"Oh my God," Spencer said, walking over and opening the fish food. He was never watching _Animal Hoarders_ again in his room if they knew about the Humane society.

 _Yes! Sweet!_

He turned on the stereo hoping the Radiohead would drown it out but he could still hear the muted _omnomnom's_ from the tank.

His life sucked so hard.

\---- !! ----

Family dinner time hadn't changed with his emotional exile from the family. They all sat around the dining room table and chatted about their days. Spencer kept his mouth shut when he wasn't eating or saying thank you. He'd used up all his words in the arguments following his confession about being attracted to boys and girls. He'd only ever dated girls but he hadn't found any boys he wanted to ask out.

He wasn't ready for anyone to know, especially after Ryan had laughed at him and hacked his facebook and told everyone.

His parents had taken it worse than he had ever imagined and they'd all said things they couldn't take back. So he'd sit at family dinner time and answer when his sisters spoke to him and be grateful he had a home at all.

When the doorbell chimed, he didn't move, watching his father get up to answer it.

"Spencer, you didn't tell us if you were at school when the teacher went nuts," Janet said when she'd eaten all of her mashed potatoes and scraped her peas into her napkin like a pro.

"What are you talking about, sweetie?" his mother asked, her gaze flickering over Spencer a moment before focusing on Janet.

"Spencer. The living room. _Now_." His father sounded pissed.

He must have found out something. Spencer folded his napkin and followed him into the other room. Two cops and Mr. Hall were standing in the living room.

"What the hell did you do?" his father hissed.

Spencer didn't answer. "Hey. What's going on?"

"We need to talk to you about this afternoon," one of the cops said.

"I wasn't supposed to let you leave school grounds, they have to take your statement," Mr. Hall said, nodding to his father. "Your parents are welcome to listen."

"They don't have to. How's this work?" Spencer asked, stepping over and sitting down on his hands. Jesus, this was so bad. He just wanted to forget it, not have his parents knowing about it.

"What kind of trouble is he in, Mr. Hall?" His mother's voice surprised him but of course she'd want to know what he'd done wrong this time.

"He's not in any trouble, he was assaulted today by one of the teachers, he witnessed a murder," the lady officer said before Mr. Hall could answer.

"What?" his mother gasped.

"She was dead when we saw her, I didn't witness anything other than Mr. Lohan losing his shit," Spencer said. "Can we just do this now?"

"You didn't tell your parents?" Mr. Hall asked when the cops sat down across from him.

"It's none of their business," Spencer muttered.

"Okay, this shouldn't take long. I'm Officer Dane and this is Officer Taylor. Can you state your name for the record?" She put a tape recorder on the coffeetable.

"Spencer Smith."

"Okay. Tell us what happened this afternoon," Taylor said.

He took a deep breath and didn't look at his mother when she sat down beside him. "I got out of history class at 3:30 and got my stuff out of my locker for detention. They cancelled it yesterday because the windows all exploded with that storm and it was in the library today."

"What do you mean the windows exploded?" his mother asked in a higher voice. If she started crying, he was going to call off the cease fire and start yelling.

"The freak storm blew out the windows and knocked us all against the wall, it knocked me out a while. I think it knocked Mr. Lohan out, too. Anyway, when I got to the library, I went into the conference room."

"Who was there?" Dane asked.

"It knocked you out?" his mother interrupted.

"It doesn't matter right now, Mom," Spencer snapped, focusing on the cops. "Okay, so, Mr. Lohan was behind the desk and Brendon was there. Dallon and Ian came in and sat down. Brendon wanted to know if Dallon was okay, because of the storm and stuff, and Dallon answered and Mr. Lohan flipped out. He yelled at him, and then I was like, what the hell, and then he smashed his fists on the desk and broke it. Then he threw a book at me and we all made a run for it. Dallon stopped us before we got to the door because he saw Ms. Spears behind the desk. She was...her guts were spilling out and she wasn't moving so I'm pretty sure she was dead. Mr. Lohan was behind us and he he hit Brendon with a book and when we got into the hallway, Mr. Hall was there and he told Ian not to pull the fire alarm but then Mr. Lohan was there and he called us 'vermin' or something and Ian pulled the fire alarm anyway and Mr. Hall said we could leave."

He was out of breath when he was done and he realized his mother was grasping his knee tightly.

"Okay. Take your time. Was Mr. Lohan usually violent?" Dane asked.

"No. I mean, he was an asshole, but he taught detention, I think it's required. He never called us names or threw stuff at us. And Brendon said he snapped at him before I came in when he asked if he was okay. I mean, there was no reason for him to flip out. We didn't do anything," Spencer said.

"Your stories match the security footage and two of the other students' statements. We'll contact you if we have any more questions," Taylor said.

"Okay. Is Mr. Lohan, like, locked up?" Spencer asked. He didn't want to see that guy again.

"He's no longer allowed on school grounds. He'll be taken into police custody when he's released from his psychiatric evaluation," Mr. Hall said.

That was one thing off his list of things to worry about. His mother was still holding onto his knee.

"We're closing the school for the rest of the week. With the storm and now this, we need some time to get everything safe and resolved," Mr. Hall said. "If you have any questions, or want Spencer to see a counselor to deal with all of this..."

"I don't need a counselor," Spencer said. The cops made their way to the door. His mother was still gripping his knee.

"Thank you, Mr. Hall. I'll call your office tomorrow with our questions," his father said.

"Spencer. Why didn't you tell us?" his mother asked.

Spencer snorted. "Are you really asking me that?"

His father sat down across from him and met his eyes. He looked worried. It wasn't the change from angry that he'd wanted. "Spencer. I know things have been...strained between us lately, but..."

"But what? You want me to come home and tell you about my day when you've made it clear you don't care? Why is today any different?" Spencer asked. "I got blasted against a wall by a thunderstorm the other day and today I see my librarian's intestines on the floor, it doesn't make me any different than I was last week - why do you care now?"

His mother started crying and his father's face was pale.

"I'm not doing this again. You're going to upset the twins and they don't need to hear us fight. I'm fine, the cops are gone and you can go back to pretending I'm dead," Spencer said, standing up.

"No, sit down, we have to talk about this. What happened today, hell, the day before, we need to know," his father said.

"You just heard it all. That's what happened but it's over now, I know I'm still grounded because of the detention, I finished my homework and I'm going upstairs to stare at the walls," Spencer said.

"Spencer, please. Give us a chance," his father said softly.

"I'm too tired to get my hopes up again," Spencer replied. He walked to the stairs and up to his room. He wasn't surprised that no one followed him.

\---- !! ----

He wasn't sure if he slept or if he passed out, but he woke up to the sound of soft knocking on his locked door. It wasn't one of the twins so he steeled himself to face one of his parents.

His mother was standing in the hallway with a covered dish. "You didn't finish your dinner. Can I come in?"

Spencer stepped aside. "It's your house."

She took a deep breath and sat down in his desk chair. "I should have said this a long time ago, but I'm saying it now. I'm sorry."

Spencer sat down on the bed. "If this is what it takes to get you to talk to me, I guess I should be grateful."

"Please."

Spencer shut up and waited to see if her words were any different this time. He didn't know if there was anything she could say to take away the last 9 months of hurt that lived in his gut now.

 _I wonder what the big one wants. Do you think its in trouble again? The big one always forgets to feed us_.

Spencer glared at the goldfish. He didn't know if he could think if the Weird interfered right now.

"I was angry. Upset. I didn't...I still don't understand where everything went wrong but hearing that you were hurt, and traumatized, that you were in danger...and you didn't think you could come to us," she started.

"You hate me. Even the twins know you hate me. Why would I tell you anything?" Spencer snapped. Okay, maybe he couldn't listen.

"I don't hate you. I could never hate my own son," she said.

"Whatever. There was nothing to tell. The storm was scary as hell but I was only out a few minutes. The nurse said I was fine and didn't need stitches. And today, well, it was scary, too, but none of us got hurt. The kids were nice to me and even though I'm not allowed to have fun when I'm grounded, it was nice to talk to people that can look me in the face," Spencer said.

"I'm sorry," she said. But she didn't meet his eyes. Wow.

"Yeah, you said that already. It doesn't matter now. We should just move on with our lives. Thank you for bringing me a plate, I'll wash it when I'm done," Spencer said as evenly as he could manage.

"Spencer...God, remember when we could actually talk to each other? You're so angry, you're so different..."

He snorted. "Whatever." She sighed, folding her hands on her lap.

"I'm not different. If I'm different it's because of you and Dad. I didn't change - I've never kissed a boy, or flirted with one, I've never even kissed a girl! I confided something to my best friend - something that I was curious about - I'm fifteen years old. And overnight, I'm a leper at school and my parents hate me. If Ryan had been a real friend he would have kept his mouth shut and you wouldn't even know and I might have had a chance to figure it out for myself before I had to give up everything that I loved. I didn't change until I had to. I had a family that loved me and friends that liked me and the next day I had nothing. I should be glad you're sorry but that doesn't really make anything different between us."

She met his gaze and he didn't let her drop it. "I'd rather get nothing from you than an apology. You've made it clear how you feel about me."

 _It's really mad at the big one. Do you think it'll remember to feed us before it turns off the lights?_

"You're wrong. I love you, Spencer, that's not what this is about...you're wrong."

Spencer had been wrong about a lot of things but today hadn't really changed anything that he believed about his family.

\---- !! ----

He ignored all the papers on the dining room table when he came down for breakfast as 'beckoned'. He put the dinner he didn't eat in the garbage and the dishes in the dishwasher before he saw the 'family therapy' printoffs.

Great.

"We expected you to sleep late since there's no school," his father said.

"Figured you'd have a list of chores ready for me," Spencer replied over his cereal.

His father sighed. "Considering everything we heard last night, I think you've had enough punishment for now. Detention clearly isn't where you belong. So we're lifting your grounding. Your mother told me about your conversation last night and we decided you've earned a little trust. Don't let us down."

"What does that mean? I can actually leave the house?" Spencer asked.

"No drinking, no drugs, no fighting..."

"When have I ever gotten drunk or done drugs?" Spencer replied. He'd never been caught at that.

His father sighed again. "Fair enough."

Spencer had to bite out the words. "Thank you."

"We're looking for some family counselors. See if we can start fixing everything that's broken. There are a few that specialize in LGBT issues. I hope, we hope, that you'll consider it with us," his father said.

He shrugged. It didn't matter but it was...new.

"Do you have any plans today?"

He shrugged again. "Don't know, didn't expect parole so soon. I'll probably go to a movie or something."

"We'll leave some money for you on the counter," his dad said. Spencer nodded instead of saying something that would push him back into his room.

He wasn't going to a movie. He was going to try and track down Brendon and talk to him about the Japanese goldfish that apparently fought insomnia with knock knock jokes and limericks. He almost hoped he was losing his mind at this point. He was going to have to get rid of those fish.

\---- !! ----

Spencer had knocked on the garage door that Brendon had taken them into yesterday but there was no answer so he went around to the front door of the house and rang the doorbell. If he'd thought ahead far enough to get his number he wouldn't have to go through this.

He wasn't sure they were legitimately friends yet, but Brendon was the closest he had right now. And he needed to talk about the goldfish.

It took a few minutes before a long haired guy opened the door. "What?"

"Um. Is Brendon here?" Spencer asked.

The guy's frown lifted and he waved him inside. "Kid, you have a visitor!"

Brendon walking into the room and his face flashed with surprise. "Spencer! Hey, come in here." He lowered his voice when he was closer. "I think Sean's got The Weird, too. He's freaking out a little."

Spencer followed him into the kitchen and didn't expect to see the ragged guy sitting at the counter with lines and pills spread across it.

"I don't do drugs, I'd never even seen anyone do lines before but apparently this is really serious," Brendon said under his breath.

"Okay, Sean, can I clean this shit up yet? Because you would be dead if this was going to work," the long-haired guy said.

"It's...fuck, what am I going to do?" Sean sighed.

"What's going on? Can I ask that?" Spencer spoke up.

"Sean can't get drunk anymore. Or high, apparently. He's very upset," Brendon replied.

"What am I going to do?" Sean repeated.

"Are you having withdrawal or anything?" Spencer asked. He'd seen enough movies to know how awful that was supposed to be.

"He seems fine apart from the whole whining thing," the long haired guy said. "Sean. Can I clean this up now?"

"I can't even drink. I can't get high. I don't think I can live like this," Sean said.

"Oh my God, your life sounds so hard. So you have to face world sober like the rest of us, that must suck for you. You should be more worried about what's going to happen to you when you get sick ane need real medicine, not worrying about getting wasted," Spencer said.

"Spencer's, kind of, a douchebag, but he means well," Brendon said after a moment.

"The douchebag's right, though, what happens if you get sick or something?" Long Hair said.

"Thanks for freaking me out even more. What the hell is wrong with me? Should I go to the hospital?" Sean asked.

"No," Brendon and Spencer said at the same time.

Sean turned around and narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you even doing here, Douchebag?"

"We have the Weird, too," Brendon blurted out.

"Nice," Spencer snorted. "What happened to not telling anyone?"

"Hey, if you don't tell anyone that we've got a shitload of illegal drugs spread across the counter here then I think we can keep your teenage secrets," Long Hair said.

"Seriously, something happened to us, a few of us, I thought it was just us," Brendon said. "But you have it, too. The Weird."

"Tom, you can clean this up now, I think it's affecting the kiddies," Sean said.

"No, listen. I think I've finally figured out what my Weird is," Brendon said, glancing at Spencer. "I think, I'm like a lie detector. When people tell me things, I hear the truth, not what they're really saying."

Tom snorted. "Sure you do."

"You have been acting strange lately. I mean, it's not like I've known you more than 4 days, but still. But I don't believe you."

"Try it. Tell him a lie, plus, that power's totally fucked up," Spencer said aside to Brendon.

Tom scoffed. "I'll play along. My first car was a Suzuki and I totaled it before I got it home from the dealership."

"Your first car was a Dodge and it's parked in your parents' backyard for emergencies?" Brendon replied.

Tom dropped his beer. Sean snickered. "He loves that car." He turned his attention to Spencer. "And you? What weird did you get?"

"I can hear animals. It sucks. Do you want some goldfish?" Spencer replied.

"Fuck. How is this my life now? I am totally blaming Brendon for everything that's wrong in my world today," Sean said, standing up and stalking to the refrigerator.

"It's not my fault that caffeine is a drug," Brendon replied easily. "Are you going to be okay?"

Sean sighed. "Yeah." Brendon frowned.

"He's a lie detector, I think you need to try harder," Tom said. He turned to Spencer and Brendon. "Guys, can you give us a little privacy?"

"Come on, Spencer. You can tell me why you decided to visit in the garage," Brendon said.

"Dude, why are you living here? You were a good little religious kid and you're living with a couple of druggies?" Spencer asked as soon as they were in the maze of boxes.

"Sean owns the house, Tom's just his best friend and major crush," Brendon said. "Sean went to school with one of my brothers. The only family member that's claiming me right now."

Spencer had a sudden rush of hope that Brendon might know what he was going through. "Is it because..."

"I'm gay? Actually, no, that's none of their business. My parents...are fucking insane right now. They sold everything they owned and followed this 'prophet' to the wilderness. I never told them I like dudes," Brendon replied, watching him with bright brown eyes. "Please don't tell anyone about my family, I'm trying to stay off the radar but these past few days have been insane."

"Yeah. I won't tell."

Brendon's eyes softened and Spencer took the recliner next to him. "Are your parents weird about you being Out now?"

"They're more than weird about it. I hate going home. It's awful. They hate me," Spencer replied.

"Shit, man, no wonder you're grumpy all the time. I'm sure they don't hate you, they just don't understand. It's not like a decision I made, I just don't get a spark, or anything, when I look at chicks. It's just the way I am, you know? It makes everything harder, I don't know why people would ever _decide_ to be an outcast," Brendon said.

"I know that. Why don't my parents know that?" Spencer replied.

"Because you're supposed to be their little boy. My parents told me I had to leave school and give up all my stuff and move somewhere to worship their God. They couldn't understand why I didn't want to go. I mean, I have no friends, and no life, but I still wouldn't go. They don't get that I'm old enough to cross the street without holding someone's hand."

Spencer saw the parallel even if Brendon's issues were bleeding into his 'advice'.

"I'm trying to deal with being on my own. Even if your parents hate you, at least you're not living in some stranger's garage. I never expected to go into the kitchen and find my landlord doing lines on the counter. He was a drunk, but that was unexpected. Everything's messed up and there's nothing I can do about it. I have no control over anything right now," Brendon said in a rush.

"That sucks. Our lives suck," Spencer said.

 _I'll go down and see if the coast is clear. I know there are some new cockroaches sniffing around._

Spencer glanced up and saw a large black spider hanging in the rafters. "Um."

Brendon followed his eyes and blanched white. "Fuck - oh my God, that bitch...is huge..."

"He says you have roaches," Spencer said. Brendon turned whiter. "Sorry."

"I'm going to die in a sea of boxes wrapped up in a web..." Brendon said piteously.

The door opened and Tom stepped in. "Okay. So Sean's having a breakdown and I'm wasted so you have to drive us to a friend's house so I can try to snap him out of it."

"Do you really think witchcraft is going to help?" Brendon asked.

"Whoa. Did I say that out loud?" Tom asked after a beat.

"No, you didn't. And we don't have drivers licenses," Spencer said.

Tom shrugged. "Don't care. Come on, get your shit. I'm going to finish flushing this bullshit down the toilet unless you guys want it."

"Fuck no," Brendon replied. "Flush it. Not the pot, though."

Spencer liked the way Brendon thought.

"I'm going to go change my shirt and get my shoes. Can you," Brendon started, pointing up at the looming spider.

"Yeah," Spencer said, looking for a sturdy box to stand on.

\---- !! ----

"Your friends are weird," Spencer said when Brendon had finally managed to park the car outside of what looked like a frathouse. It was a two story house with a small balcony on the second floor. The large tree in the front yard was strewn with toilet paper and a couch sat in the center of the yard with two altered Kegs holding flowers on both ends.

"I've known Sean four days, and Tom just from today. I'm not sure if we're considered friends yet," Brendon replied under his breath.

Spencer nodded but he had seen different from the simple camaraderie he had with Sean. Tom was pretty quiet and, well, wasted.

Sean didn't bother ringing the doorbell and walked inside. "Gabe! Motherfucker, where are you?"

 _He's in the basement. Smoking that shit again. It's too early for asthma._

The dog was apparently British. Spencer saw the fat dog panting at them from the arm of the couch. "He's downstairs. The dog says anyway."

Sean and Tom turned to blink at him and Brendon giggled, going over to the dog and skritching his ears.

 _Oh yes, that's nice, I like you, rub my belly next, awesome..._

Spencer didn't know if he could stand here and listen to a dog get off from petting. "This sucks."

"I think it's kind of awesome," Tom said.

"He really likes getting his belly rubbed. It's creepy," Spencer replied.

Tom barked out a laugh. "Kid, get off the dog and come with us to find Gabe."

Brendon's eyes were bright when he joined them again. "I always wanted a dog."

Sean had already disappeared down through a door and Spencer nudged Brendon ahead.

 _Aww. I'll follow him and be cute and see if he'll keep doing that._ Spencer rolled his eyes at the following dog.

There was a rapid techno beat blaring in the basement and a strobe light making everything seem like slow motion. A tall kid in neon stood behind a DJ stand and was bobbing happily to the music.

It took Spencer a moment to recognize Gabe Saporta. He was a two-time senior who'd missed too many days to graduate on time. He was probably the most popular, and rowdy person at their school.

Sean walked over and unplugged the turntables. "Jesus, it's like ten in the morning and your party's still going?"

Gabe let out a high pitched laugh and threw his long arms around Sean. "Oh my God, man, I'm totally flipping out over here, you don't even know."

"What are you on?" Tom asked, slumping down on a couch.

"I'm totally high on crazy today! Let's see - you're fucking wasted, and you're hungry," Gabe said, going around the room with his dark eyes, pointing at Tom first, and then Brendon before moving on to Spencer. "And you're having a sexual crisis and you...Sean, what the fuck is up with you? You're sober?"

"Gabe's got the Weird, too," Brendon said, startled.

"We haven't even told you anything yet," Sean said after a beat. "Fuck."

"Hang on," Gabe said, flipping several switches and turning off the strobe light. For a moment, the basement turned red and Barry White started singing from the speakers. "Shit, wrong one," Gabe said, flipping more switches until the lights were normal.

Spencer spotted an empty couch and sat down. He wasn't sure what he was doing here. Brendon sat down beside him and he felt better knowing he was out of his element, too.

"Brendon and Spencer, right? What the fuck are you doing here?" Gabe asked, recognizing them in the lit room.

"How do you know our names?" Brendon replied.

"I know everyone. And since yesterday, I know everything about everyone. You stay with Sean now? Shit, your parents are assholes," Gabe said. He flicked his eyes to Spencer. "Are your parents are suddenly not assholes. That's fucked up."

"Full stop," Tom said. "Are you saying you're psychic or some shit now?"

"I have no idea but I don't think I'm ever going to sleep again," Gabe said.

Sean was standing in the corner staring sadly at a six foot water bong. "Dude. Sit down and chill," Spencer called.

"Sean can't get high anymore. He's freaking out," Brendon said.

"What? Fuck, Sean, what are you going to do? I mean, I was going to get my Mom to do a cleansing spell or something, but they're in South America until Christmas," Gabe said.

"Is magic real, too?" Brendon blurted out.

"It's never been real before, but I'm starting to feel bad for making fun of my mom all this time," Gabe replied absently.

 _Hello, cute dog over here getting zero attention. You guys are useless._

Spencer glared at the pouting dog and sighed, patting the couch beside him.

 _Score!_ The dog hopped sluggishly on the couch. Brendon immediately started scratching his ears with a pleased smile.

"When did you get a dog?" Tom asked.

"I don't know. He just walked in one day, I haven't really thought about it. So, Sean can't get high and I'm telepathic, that still doesn't explain why the children over there are in my house," Gabe said.

"Wow, okay, asshole, but for the record, you don't even know us," Brendon said, obviously having heard something different. "You want to walk to that deli we passed on the way here?" Brendon asked Spencer. "He's an asshole and there's nothing we can really do for Sean right now."

"Definitely," Spencer said, relieved. He'd actually enjoyed hanging out with people, no matter how crazy, that didn't care about who he was on the gossip side of life. He didn't want to know what Brendon had heard.

"Hey, so we know when we're not welcome and we're going to head out," Brendon said, standing up and holding out the keys to Sean.

"Wait - I don't think you should go anywhere after that shit yesterday, your brother would flip," Sean said, glaring at the visibly confused Gabe.

Brendon rolled his eyes. "You're not my babysitter. And you shouldn't have called Mike about that anyway. I'll see you at home later."

Gabe watched them curiously but Spencer gave him the finger and walked up the stairs with Brendon close behind.

"I wouldn't have come if I'd known it was Saporta's house," Brendon said.

Spencer believed him. "Do you want to tell me what he said?"

"Not really. I want some coffee," Brendon said. Spencer could get behind that plan.

\---- !! ----

A couple of hours sitting at the deli drinking coffee and bullshitting about movies, music and caffeine addiction made the visit to Gabe's and the serious shit going on with his parents fade away. Even though it was only a couple of hours, it was the most settled he'd been in months, before the weirdo animal communication thing. Brendon laughed at his stupid jokes and knew tons about music and had very serious feelings about musical theater adaptations.

Spencer had never met anyone like him. He couldn't believe he'd never noticed him before.

They didn't talk about their families or their mindfucking new powers, they talked about mindless stuff and it was amazing to have a friend to talk to about anything.

"I am totally wired now, like, unbelievably hyped up. We should do something else that's free and fun," Brendon said. "Your douchbagness is now at an acceptable level."

"That's good to know. We could go to the park or something."

"Swings, awesome. Can we go by my place first? I need to eat something," Brendon said. Spencer had failed to convince him to let him spring for lunch, but Brendon kept saying he'd save the offer of free meals for when he really needed them.

He couldn't imagine having to pay rent and buy food and clothes on minimum wage without his parents. As angry as he'd been these past few months, as much as their coldness hurt him - he didn't think they'd abandon him. And from the little he knew, the shit with Brendon's parents didn't seem to have anything to do with Brendon or what kind of son he was.

"I have Guitar Hero at my house, it's on the way to your place and I could run in and grab it," Spencer said.

"Oh God, can we? I miss video games, I didn't grab mine before they boxed all the stuff up for sale and Sean's console is covered in something very sticky," Brendon said.

"Yeah. This...today's been the first reasonably good day I've had in a while. Thanks," Spencer said.

Brendon poked him playfully in the side. "I knew you were just pretending to be a douchebag. You're kind of fun, too."

They caught the bus to his house and Spencer was disappointed to see his Dad's car in the driveway. "Maybe we should skip it," Spencer said.

"It's your house, you can't avoid going inside after you got me all excited about video games," Brendon said, tugging him up the sidewalk.

"I should apologize preemptively for anything my Dad might say. Things are weird at home," Spencer warned.

Brendon shrugged. "We'll only be here a minute and we can get back to enjoying our day off school."

Spencer sucked in a deep breath and stepped into the house. At first glance, it was quiet but his father stepped out before they could get to the stairs. "Dad. What are you doing home?"

"Boss gave us the afternoon off as a reward for snagging that new contract. Hi, I'm Spencer's father," he said, his eyes already on Brendon.

"I'm Brendon, I go to school with Spencer."

His father was glancing between them, flushed red. "Oh. It's nice to meet you."

"Wow. Okay, just because Spencer likes boys doesn't mean he's going to bang every one he meets. We're friends, dude. Sir," Brendon edited, stepping back. Spencer hoped the guy could get a handle on interpreting what he heard. Brendon needed to learn to read lips.

His father glanced at Spencer. "Dad, he was in detention with me when all that stuff went down. We're going back to his house, I just came to get some stuff."

"How are you guys doing with what happened yesterday?" His father asked carefully.

"I don't think either of us got much sleep," Brendon answered. "There have to be better reasons for a day off but I'll take what I can get at this point."

Spencer noticed that his father seemed to relax and he took advantage, abandoning Brendon and hurrying to his room.

 _It's back! We're so hungry! **STARVING**!_

 _It will feed us, it's looking at us!_

"I hate you both," Spencer said. He sprinkled some food into the fishtank and went to work disconnecting and packing up his console.

 _We should do something exciting today._

 _I'm eating right now._

 _We should play tag again._

 _You always bite my tail._

 _I don't have teeth, Loser._

Spencer might have to think about buying a little plastic castle or something if it would keep them quiet. When he had everything packed up, he hurried back downstairs. His douchebag level was probably rising from leaving Brendon alone with his father.

"No, Mr. Lohan was always pretty decent to us. He gave me ride home a couple of times when I had to wait for the bus in the rain," Brendon was saying. "It was like he had one of those, what, psychotic breaks or something. But Mr. Hall's a good guy and once we ran into him, I knew we'd be okay."

"I'm ready if you are," Spencer said. They were sitting across from each other on the couches having a civil conversation. Spencer hadn't managed one of those with his Dad in forever.

"You guys could stay here, I won't bother you," his father said.

"Thanks, but I have some stuff to do at home," Brendon covered quickly. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Smith." He took the bag and walked outside.

"Spencer. It's good you're making friends. Have fun," his father said.

"Thanks. I'll be home for dinner," he added. Everything was so weird.

\---- !! ----

  



	3. Pete

**Episode Three: Pete**

 _"Why can't I read your mind?"_

 _Pete blinked at the guy towering over him in the technicolor forest. It was seriously a technicolor forest, like The Wizard of Oz on LSD. He'd seen the Wizard of Oz once on LSD and now he was in some kind of Acid Oz._

 _"Fucker, what's wrong with you? Fuck, this is totally going to end with flying monkeys, I knew it, goddammit, I'm crazy when I'm awake and asleep..."_

 _"Jesus, what's your issue? You're ruining my chemically induced nightly coma over here and bringing those scary fucking monkeys into it, too?" Pete snapped. He hadn't hallucinated in months and his mom fed him his meds religiously. A fluorescent dragonfly buzzed past his nose._

 _"You're in my dream and you have too many tats to be a munchkin. Are you a munchkin?" The guy seemed horrified at the thought._

 _"Fuck you. I don't even know you, asshole. I don't dream. Whatever this is, it's your fault," Pete said._

 _"Everybody dreams. You walked right into mine. I was here first. Fuck, what if I'm a figment of your imagination?"_

 _"If you are, will we both remember this? Honestly, I probably won't. I take a lot of drugs."_

 _The guy scanned him. "You don't look like a junkie in my dream. But I take a lot of drugs, too."_

 _"Mine are medically prescribed. Mom says I can finish school when she stops thinking I'm going to hang myself with the curtains when she goes to the store." None of this was real so he could actually be honest. The colors weren't as distracting now and he studied the stranger. He was freakishly tall with dark eyes under a day-glo yellow trucker cap. Pete liked his striped hoodie a lot, though._

 _"Really? Not the curtains. My mom is never home but she'd be pissed if I fucked with her curtains."_

 _Pete laughed. "She totally has a secret curtain damage alarm, like my Dad and the thermostat."_

 _"They always know - my Mom has all these crystals, and like, a shrine - she thinks she's a witch - and when I was a kid, I'd sneak in and try to play with them and she always knew," the guy grinned._

 _"So much shiny, I'd be all over that," Pete saw a flash of a room full of dangling prisms and candles and knew exactly what the guy was saying._

 _"That was weird. Did you do that? I mean, I can read minds now and it sucks and I'm really going to be pissed if something else happens," the guy said._

 _Pete bit back a laugh as he realized what was going on. "Dude. This is what losing your mind feels like."_

 ****

\---- !!! ----

"Why don't you take a walk today, honey? It's been days since you went outside," his mother said, pushing a tall cup of coffee across the table for him.

The last time Pete had gone outside, the sky had exploded with green fire and thunder and his dog ran away. It wasn't the best omen.

"Are you giving us the silent treatment this early? I'm impressed," his dad said, putting a bowl of cereal in front of him and manipulating the spoon into his hand. "Eat."

Pete chewed the overly sweetened mush and listened to his parents chatter like nothing was wrong. Like his tattoos weren't covering years of marks from obsessive cutting and his neck wasn't scarred from a curtain noose under his choker.

He fucking loved his parents.

 _"Peter."_

"Fuck you, I'm listening. Have you heard from the animal shelter? Has anyone found Hemmy?" Pete asked, meeting his mom's eyes over her smile that quickly turned sad as she shook her head.

"I'm sure he's fine, we'll find him curled up with some bitch somewhere," his father said. Pete didn't fight his smile and his mom laughed, too.

"You could go to the movies, or the mall, there are lots of places within walking distance, honey. The doctor says you need to start socializing here. It's a fresh start, baby, you want that and we're giving it to you the only way we know how."

They tried so hard to make him care but nothing ever helped the knot of disgust in his gut dissolve enough for him to want to live. He'd never experienced real physical pain, but mentally, pain was all he had inside. "Okay. I'll go to the park or something."

His mother looked at him expectantly and he snorted. They did have a routine and he knew the script. "I'll text you every hour and make sure you know I'm not wasted."

"Good boy. I'm going to head out to Mom's and your father's working from home today," his mother said.

"Tell Nana I said hello. Dad, you don't have to stay here because of..."

His father waved him off. "Personally, I do much better work when I can watch the gameshow network all day instead of listening to the secretaries talking about American Idol in the hallway. Don't ruin my zen place."

Pete finished his bowl under their careful watch and took all the plates into the kitchen while they said their goodbyes.

He changed into a pair of tight jeans and his red hoodie, taking longer to draw on his eyeliner and gel down his hair than he did most days. People other than his parents and his shrink were going to see him and he needed to make an effort to be normal. He owed his parents that much.

He took a few deep breaths before he actually stepped out of the house, though. He missed his dog. Hemmy never gave him a choice to leave the house. It was weird to face the sunlight without his happy tug on the leash.

Pete held his Ipod in his hand instead and flipped through the songs absently as he walked. He ducked underneath his hoodie to avoid any curious looks from the sparse people in their yards in the development and he breathed easier when he reached the first cluster of shops.

He walked here a lot when his mother would run him out of the house, the subs at the restaurant were awesome but he preferred hanging out in the small smoothie shop because they played music he liked. There was a kid there sometimes in the afternoon that always came out to pet Hemmy and had bright smiles for Pete. Not many people smiled at him, he made sure to send off 'fuck you' vibes but this kid didn't seem to care.

He was surprised to see the kid behind the counter this morning, half asleep against the cash register. "Shouldn't you be at school?" Pete blurted out.

The kid jolted awake, knocking over the straw dispenser. "Fuck. Sorry sorry, how can I help you?" he stammered, scrambling to rake up the straws.

"I asked why you were working today," Pete said, fighting a smile. The kid was so bumbling that he felt bad and leaned down to help.

"Oh, school's cancelled and I need the hours." He put the handfuls of straws on the counter and chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "I hate to throw them away but I can't use them."

Pete wasn't sure what the kid was thinking. They were straws.

"Lincoln logs, I'm totally taking them home to build a cabin!"

Pete couldn't fight a laugh this time and the kid grinned at him. "You're an interesting guy," Pete said finally.

"I know, I'm weird as hell, but I'm not going to waste these. Besides, my manager's not here and I'm officially in charge. Not really, but you're the first customer I've had all day," the guy smiled. "Where's Hemmy?"

"He ran away in the storm," Pete said, the reminder a punch in his gut.

The kid's face lit up. "Fuck. I know where he is. I saw him yesterday and I didn't make the connection, not that I know your name anyway but I should have recognized the dog."

"What? Where is he? Is he all right?" Pete asked.

"He seemed fat and happy, like always. I gave him a belly rub, we didn't stay long. Let me call my friend and see if he has the guy's number," the kid said.

"My name's Pete," he said after a moment. If this guy could get his dog back, he could know his name.

The guy grinned. "Brendon. Nice to finally meet you."

"I'll call while I'm making your smoothie, hang tight."

Pete was glad for the first time in weeks that he'd left the house. He watched Brendon hold his phone against his shoulder with his chin while he mixed Pete's regular order. He was frowning when he turned around and Pete's stomach dropped with disappointment.

"My roommate's not answering. He's have some...personal issues," Brendon said.

"I know what that's like," Pete said.

Brendon frowned further. "Not like that, he wouldn't do that."

Pete blinked at him. "What?"

"Fuck," Brendon sighed, flushing and dragging his hand over his face. "I think everyone in town is having personal issues after that storm. It twisted up my brainwaves."

"How so?"

"I shouldn't talk about it. Look, if you can hang out an hour or so, I'll walk you over to Gabe's place. He's a douchebag and doesn't like me, but I'm sure he'll give you your dog," Brendon said.

"Why doesn't he like you?" Pete asked, confused at the guy's shift in topic. Was something wrong with him?

"I'm a loser. I work really hard to stay invisible until I get out of fucking high school, but he's the leader of the popular clique. I didn't even know he knew who I was until my roommate got me to drive him over a couple of days ago but he knows me enough to dislike me," Brendon said, shrugging.

"Fuck him. You seem pretty cool. You have good taste in music, too," Pete said. Brendon smiled brightly.

"Thanks. You want to run the sound system a while? I need to go find replacement straws."

Pete moved over to the boom box and started flicking through the attached Ipod, impressed with the variety. Today might be okay.

 ****

\---- !!! ----

"There is a glitch in my plan," Brendon said, tucking his apron and hat into his backpack and meeting Pete on the sidewalk where he'd been texting his mother.

"Is Hemmy okay?" Pete asked.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean like that. Just, I don't have a car and we can take the bus there, but you can't get the dog back here on the bus," Brendon said.

"Oh. I have a car. I don't know if I'm allowed to drive it," Pete said. He hadn't asked for it in a while. He didn't have anywhere to go.

Brendon was looking at him strangely. "I think. I think I have to tell you something before you think I'm a freak. Well, you'll still think I'm a freak, but."

"What?" Pete asked. Brendon was confusing. He shifted nervously as Pete waited for him to answer.

"The storm fucked me up and now I don't hear what people say. I hear the truth. So I don't know what you just really said, but I doubt you said what I heard," Brendon blurted out in a rush.

Pete should have known the first sort of friend he made would be certifiable. "What did you hear?"

"That you have a car but your parents think you'll drive off a cliff if you get the keys," Brendon said in a whisper. "I mean, I don't even know you, but before, when I told you Sean was having personal issues, you said something about hanging himself."

Pete felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"I won't tell anyone, I swear, and I'm so sorry, I haven't figured out how it works yet and I really hate it. I know all kinds of things I shouldn't know and it's scary as fuck," Brendon confessed.

Pete didn't want to believe him but Brendon's eyes were earnest and honest. "I think the Jonas Brothers are the best band of our generation."

Brendon's face wrinkled in confusion. "You want the Jonas Brother to die in a fire?"

Pete sighed. "I guess you are telling the truth."

Brendon reached over and patted his arm. It was weird being touched by someone that wasn't a parent or doctor. It had been a long time. "I wish I could do something to cheer you up. Getting your dog back will be awesome, right?"

"Yeah," Pete said, relaxing a notch. "I miss him a lot."

"How far's your house? I mean, I can give you the address but I don't want Gabe to freak you out, he's a dick and you're nice," Brendon said.

"No, you should come with me. It might make my dad let me have the car easier if you're with me," Pete said.

"Okay. I didn't consider how rude it might be for me to know shit I shouldn't. Some things should stay private. Maybe I should talk to Gabe, actually. He got zapped, too."

"He got struck by lightning?"

Brendon laughed. "I have no idea, I mean, I didn't get struck by lightning exactly, I was at school but Gabe seems to be able to read minds now. He knew my secret and there's no way in hell he should've known it."

"You don't seem like the type to have secrets," Pete said. "You know mine already."

"I talk way too much," Brendon sighed, smiling at him. "Don't tell anyone. But my parents ditched town to join a cult and I'm living in a stranger's garage until I hit sixteen. I have to stay off the radar until then and hopefully longer."

Pete felt bad for the kid. "A real cult?"

Brendon nodded. "They've always been religious but they fell in with this guy and sold the house and wanted me to go live in this commune or something. I refused to go and they left me behind."

Pete reached over and patted him on the back. "That sucks, dude. How long?"

"Not even a week now, and I've already told too many people about it. But I can do this, I can make this work." Brendon visibly steeled himself, squaring his shoulders. "How long have you been in town?"

"Oh. A couple of months. My parents moved us here so I could, maybe, get better in a new place."

"Is it working?" Brendon asked.

"I'm honestly too medicated to know for sure. You're the first person I've had a real conversation with since I got here," Pete said.

"You talked to a guy in your dream? That's weird," Brendon replied.

"I didn't say that," Pete replied. "But yeah, I don't dream because of the sleeping pills but it was so vivid and I remembered all of it when I woke up. So apart from imaginary people, you're the only person I've talked to."

"I wonder if you've got The Weird, too," Brendon said.

"I can't handle being any weirder than I already am. Here's my place. Do you mind coming in and showing my dad you're not imaginary and telling him about Hemmy?" Pete asked.

Brendon laughed softly. "People keep introducing me to their parents. Luckily, parents that aren't mine usually like me."

Pete was still nervous when he led Brendon into the house and to the den where his dad was pecking away at his laptop with The Price Is Right onscreen. "Dad."

"Hey, son. Oh, hello, I'm Harvey, are you a friend of Pete's?" his father asked, standing up as soon as he spotted Brendon.

"Yes, sir, I work at the smoothie shop down the street and he has great taste in music. I also know who has his dog," Brendon said, holding out his hand to shake.

His father raised an eyebrow at Pete who nodded. "He knows Hemmy because I bring him when I go there for smoothies. Can I use the car? It's too far for us to walk."

"Oh. Are you sure?" his father asked after a moment.

"It's Hemmy. I want to get him. Brendon's cool," Pete said.

"The keys are on the dresser in our bedroom, run up and grab them," his dad said. Pete knew he just wanted to interrogate Brendon but he wanted his dog and made sure to hurry upstairs.

He'd spent all morning with Brendon and it was almost like having a friend. He hadn't let himself have one of those in a while. He hadn't talked to any of his old friends since the first time he tried to die. He wasn't ready to face them yet.

He found the keyring in the change dish on his parents' dresser and walked back down the stairs. He paused outside of the den to listen.

"It's not a bad school, not that I've ever been to another high school. The principal, Mr. Hall, he's really cool and he's really involved, he knows everyone's name and always offers to help if I'm feeling rough. There's not much fighting and bullying's not tolerated, it's almost like a safe zone apart from the silent killer of juniors."

"Silent killer?"

"Calculus. Oh my God, so hard. Student council started a petition to put a stop to it, but Mr. Hall vetoed it."

Pete's father laughed and he sighed in relief. Brendon had defused his father and they were both smiling genially at each other when he stepped in. "Got the keys."

"Awesome. I feel so bad for not recognizing Hemmy yesterday," Brendon said. He turned to Pete's dad and held out his hand for a farewell shake. "I will get you son home safe and unmolested, Mr. Wentz."

Pete wasn't sure where the 'unmolested' part of that promise came from but his father laughed. "I appreciate that. You boys be careful."

His father embraced him quickly when Brendon had gone to the door. "It's good to make friends, Pete."

"Maybe," Pete replied.

 ****

\---- !!! ----

"It looks like a frathouse," Pete said when he'd parked the car and pulled Brendon's attention away from the stereo.

"From what I know about Gabe, he's a hardcore partier. I don't have many friends. Before the storm, I could count them on no hands. It's weird. But Sean's car is here and he's the guy I'm staying with and I know he's cool. Do you want to come with me?"

Pete considered it, smoothing his fingers over the steering wheel and finding dust. The guy could read minds and was a douchebag from Brendon's description. But Brendon was doing him a favor coming here when it sounded like he disliked the guy so much. Pete could do this. Maybe it would help him prepare to face a school full of strangers. He climbed out of the car and followed Brendon to the porch.

"Fuck, we've been looking for you everywhere, we need you," a guy with straggly hair said, walking onto the porch in a pair of fluffy slippers.

"Me? Tom, this is Pete. Gabe has his dog," Brendon said. "We're just here for that."

Tom gave Pete a small wave and shook his head at Brendon. "No, dude. We need your thing. You have to come in. The dog's downstairs anyway."

"I'm not even going to comment about him wanting your 'thing', but I'm a little worried about Hemmy now," Pete said. Brendon snorted a laugh and gave him the finger. Pete had a rush of warmth at making someone smile again. Once upon a time, he'd been funny as hell.

"Fuck you both, this is serious. Gabe thinks he's going crazy and he won't sleep and we just got Sean settled. If you can tell us if he's lying or not, we'll at least have an answer one way or the other," Tom said to Brendon, dragging him reluctantly inside by the sleeve.

"I'm sorry, Pete, I swear the dog's here and I have no idea what he's talking about," Brendon apologized.

"It's cool, I know you don't want to be here either," Pete said.

"Why are you being so squirrelly?" Tom asked Brendon.

"It doesn't matter, we're just here for the dog," Brendon replied, tugging his sleeve out of Tom's hand and dropping back beside Pete. He wondered exactly how much Brendon had dealt with everything he'd confessed to Pete.

He seemed like a brave little guy, but inside the house, his insecurities were showing.

Pete didn't have a chance to really look around until they were in the basement and the strings of light and thumping music made him wonder if he should pay a cover charge.

"Brendon! Thank fuck. Where have you been?"

"You look like shit, Sean," Brendon said to the speaker, but he was smiling so Pete knew it wasn't Gabe.

He spotted Hemmy waddling across the room with his stubby tail wagging and he reared up on his hind legs when he reached Pete and panted happily in greeting.

"You little asshole," Pete whispered, crouching down and hugging his dog tightly and letting him lick his face.

"That's Pete. Hemmy's his dog so I brought him to get him. Did you sleep at all or are you still trying to get stoned?" Brendon asked.

"It doesn't work. I'm dealing with it." Brendon's face shuttered closed. "Fuck, I forget you're a lie detector. But it'll be fine."

"Good," Brendon said, turning his attention to Pete. "How do you think he got all the way over here?"

"I have no idea, he's not a big fan of exercise," Pete replied. Brendon's eyes drifted past him and Pete startled when he recognized the guy from his dream.

"It's you. I told you guys I wasn't crazy!" the guy said, waving his hands and smiling widely.

"You were in my dream last night," Pete said. What the fuck was going on?

"No, you were in my dream last night. Are you real?"

"Pete, that's Gabe. Gabe, that's Pete. You have his dog," Brendon said helpfully.

Gabe was wearing the striped hoodie from the technicolor dream and the flashing lights of the basement gave him a hint for the reasoning of the setting. "It's your dog? He's been here for days."

"He ran away during the storm," Pete answered. "Brendon recognized him."

"Oh," Gabe said. "Do you remember everything? Because it was really vivid for me."

"I think so. Crystals and all that," Pete said, a sinking feeling in his gut that another stranger knew he was crazy as fuck.

"I still can't read you mind - that's awesome. How do you know Brendon?" Gabe asked.

"I swear to God if you call me a twink one more time I will kick you in the balls," Brendon snapped.

Pete blinked at him in surprise but Sean spoke first. "He didn't say that, Brendon."

"We can go, Brendon, if you want. I should take Hemmy home and you worked all morning," Pete said. He wanted to talk to Gabe but Brendon was visibly unhappy in here and Pete was the reason he'd come along instead of giving him an address and being done with it.

"No! I'm sorry, kid, my filter doesn't work if you hear what's in my head anyway," Gabe said. "I need to talk to this guy."

Brendon sat down on the couch beside Sean and didn't protest when the guy put his arm around him. Hemmy ambled over to stretch out across his feet.

"Sorry. That kid really doesn't like me," Gabe said.

"He's a really nice guy," Pete said. "He says I might have the weird."

"I think a lot of people do. Except for Tom over there, but he already has a lot of weird on his own. Rundown, I can read minds, Sean is immune to the chemicals he depends on to function and Brendon there is a lie detector. His buddy, who I apparently scared away, too, can hear what animals are thinking. A lot of kids are freaking out and everything is pretty much shit around here right now," Gabe said, his eyes wild.

Pete wasn't sure what he was supposed to say but he felt like he knew Gabe. Like he was a kindred spirit, another fuck-up trying to find a way up from rock bottom. "Maybe I'm a dreamwalker or something."

"That has to be better than my thing. I hate knowing what everyone's thinking. It's all I hear. But I don't hear you," Gabe said. "It's great. Can you move in and go with me everywhere?"

Pete laughed. "Not even close." He was too crazy to even socialize with normal guys, he wouldn't last twenty minutes with Gabe if he was awake.

 ****

\---- !!! ----

Pete had more in common with Gabe than anyone he'd ever met and he fell into easy conversation with him, smiling more than he had in years.

Brendon was snoring softly against Sean's shoulder while Tom snored on his other side and Pete actually forgot to text his mom. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he raised it to his ear. "Sorry, Mom."

"Everything all right? Your dad said you were going out with a friend but that was hours ago."

Pete winced at the clock. "Sorry, time got away from me. I'll head home now."

"I wouldn't rush you but it's almost time for your meds and I brought dinner. Did you have lunch?"

Pete hadn't thought about it. "No. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

He closed the phone and considered his day. He had fun, he talked to people. Brendon and Gabe both knew he had issues but didn't hold it against him. Maybe it would be better here. He would actually have something good to tell his parents and his shrink.

"I have to go," Pete said.

Gabe frowned but nodded his understanding. "Give me your number so we can hang out again."

They traded phones and he tapped in his number and they traded back.

"I should probably thank your dog, too," Gabe added, reaching down to scritch Hemmy's ears.

"I'll give you a call soon," Pete said. "I should wake Brendon up and take him home."

Brendon woke up as soon as Pete nudged his knee and he sat up carefully not to wake Sean. He stretched slowly, popping his shoulders and yawning as he got to his feet. "I'm starving, I'm going to make so much Ramen tonight. All of the Ramen."

"Thanks for proving I'm not crazy," Gabe said to Brendon.

"Mm. Thanks for not being a douchebag to him," Brendon said.

Gabe laughed and waved goodbye while they walked up the stairs, Hemmy trotting beside him all the way to the car before rolling over for a belly rub for a reward.

"Your dog is spoiled," Brendon laughed, picking him up and settling him on his lap, dribbling tongue and all.

"Yeah, but he deserves it," Pete smiled. "Where do you live?"

"I'm actually only a couple of blocks from you so we can go straight to your house and I'll walk. I need to walk off this nap," Brendon said.

"Are you pissed I got along with Gabe?" Pete asked after a moment.

Brendon rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude. That's just dumb. Friends are important and we all have friends for different reasons. Gabe and I have nothing in common but you and him click and that's awesome. We can never have too many friends."

His father was standing in the yard checking the mail when he pulled up and Pete steeled himself to deal with the questions about his missed check in call.

"I'm glad you brought him back with you, your mother and I wanted to ask him to stay for dinner in thanks for finding your dog," his father said.

Brendon was visibly surprised and glanced at Pete who nodded. It would be good for Brendon to stay. He had fun today and if his parents approved of Brendon as suicide watch chaperone, maybe he would get out of the house more.

"Thanks, that would be nice," Brendon smiled. "I should find more dogs if free meals are involved."

 ****

\---- !!! ----

 _"Whoa." Pete turned around and pretended to study the poster of Blink 182 on the closet door._

 _"Jesus fuck! Who the hell are you?"_

 _Pete wondered if it would hurt if he got his ass kicked in a dream. Where the fuck was he tonight? There were a pair of swimming goldfish that seemed to be dressed like harajuka girls on the desk in his peripheral vision but he didn't want to turn around until he figured out what the kid that had just been grinding on top of the bed with Brendon._

 _"My name's Pete. Apparently I'm a dreamwalker now. Um. Brendon's not actually here, right?"_

 _"Not anymore. Oh my God, you know Brendon? Please don't tell him..."_

 _"No worries about that. Unless you're some kind of pedo. Are you some kind of pedo?" Pete asked, turning around._

 _The guy had shiny hair and Pete wondered if sex hair existed in dreams. His eyes were sharp blue and the room seemed to get colder. "No. How do you know him? Are you one of Sean's friends?"_

 _"I met Sean, but I know Brendon from his job. He found my dog and had dinner with my parents," Pete answered. "Who are you?"_

 _"Spencer. Are you dating him?"_

 _"Oh, no, he's cute and everything, but I'm into girls," Pete replied. "I'm pretty sure I've forgotten how to flirt."_

 _Spencer nodded thoughtfully. "Fair enough. I. I don't usually have sex dreams about people I know. But Brendon's, kind of, been on my mind. He told me he had dinner at your house."_

 _"What did he say about me?" Pete asked. He wondered how crazy he'd come off to Brendon._

 _Spencer shrugged. "He said you had awesome tattoos and great taste in music and when you weren't brooding, you were really funny. He said you made Gabe nice. He likes you."_

 _"Cool. I like him, too. I just moved here. I'm, kind of, crazy," Pete said._

 _"Yeah, get in line. Those fish are singing the Spongebob theme song. Their pineapple under the sea can suck my balls," Spencer glared._

 _Pete smiled. "I don't know how this works, so I can I sit down? This happened with Gabe and we just hung out."_

 _"Why are you in my dream when I don't even know you?"_

 _Pete winked at him. "Maybe I'm here to protect imaginary Brendon's virtue."_

 ****

\---- !!! ----

"You had a good day yesterday according to your parents. Tell me about it," the shrink asked, flipping through the pages of her notebook absently. He knew she was paying attention though, he'd learned that much from all of the psychiatrists he'd been through.

Pete settled into the cushy chair. "It was a good day. This kid that I see sometimes at the smoothie shop knew where my dog was. He took me to this other kid's place to get him and I met a few other people. Friends."

"You don't call people friends easily. What's different this time?" she asked, scribbling something but keeping eye contact with him.

"I don't know. Brendon and Gabe know a little about what happened to me and they didn't even flinch. Brendon doesn't really get it completely, but Gabe does. They're different than other people I've met lately."

"You told them you attempted suicide?" She put her pen down.

"Yeah. They told me shit about themselves, too, like collateral. It's something that makes me who I am now so I told them," Pete said. He was impressed at his phrasing of his day of personal growth. He didn't even have to tell them because of their powers but the shrink didn't need to know that part.

"Good for you. Did you tell them anything else about your past? Those parts make you who you are, too."

Pete shook his head. He didn't talk about Ashlee. He would never talk about her. "That's mine. Nobody else gets to know that. Moving on, I had fun. I didn't think I could have that again."

"I'll let your evasion pass for the moment," she said, smiling softly.

He filled the next hour with vague stories about his dreams, leaving out the important bits and just making the point that he could dream again.

She seemed pleased when their time was up and gave him a hug before he left, which was new. His parents had been upbeat this morning and now his shrink was in a good mood. It was weird, but definitely not unwelcome.

Any day he got out of talking about Ashlee was a good day at the shrink.

The waiting room was empty apart from the receptionist and a familiar face. He approached carefully. "Spencer?"

The kid jumped, eyed him warily before smiling. "Pete. Why am I not surprised that you're a real guy?"

Pete chuckled under his breath and took the empty seat beside him. "I was definitely surprised when I found out Gabe was a real guy. What are you doing at the shrink's office?"

"Family therapy. Now that they've decided to forgive me for being gay, they think I'm going to forgive them for treating me like a leper for so long. They're in with my sisters now, someone's gong to come get me when it's my turn to face the gauntlet," Spencer said.

"Ouch. I hate family meetings," Pete said. He'd learned about Spencer's parental issues last night and he felt bad for the guy. "But at least they're making an effort."

"People keep saying that," Spencer said tiredly. "I'm just doing whatever they want to get them off my back."

"I'm a fan of telling people what they want to hear. But after all the therapy I've gone to, it actually doesn't hurt to be honest."

Spencer shrugged, fiddling with his cuffs. "It fucked up my sisters. I'm over it, but they're twelve and they've seen firsthand if you break my parent's rules, they'll pretend you're dead."

Pete winced. "I give shitty advice."

Spencer snorted. "It's cool. I don't want to talk anyway, I'm just nervous."

"I have to head home to check in with my parents, this is the first time I've come alone. I thought I'd check out the smoothie shop later and see if Brendon was working," Pete said.

Spencer blushed and glared at him. "You're distracting me from my paralyzing anxiety."

"I know."

"He gets off at one, I was going to go to his place. You should pick me up," Spencer said, sucking in a breath and nodding at the receptionist who was waving him to follow her.

"Address?" Pete asked. Spencer paused long enough to write it down before disappearing to face his fate at the shrink.

Fate was starting to make more sense to him now.

 ****

\---- !!! ----


End file.
